


Royal Slumber

by strawwolf



Category: Merlin (TV), Merthur - Fandom
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Snark
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-28
Updated: 2018-07-28
Packaged: 2019-06-17 12:00:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,515
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15460908
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/strawwolf/pseuds/strawwolf
Summary: Arthur's stretching himself too thin and Merlin thinks he has the perfect solution. Now he just has to trick Arthur into giving up an afternoon of his time. Will he fool a grumpy, sleep-deprived king or will he be caught?





	Royal Slumber

Arthur was quite happily enveloped in a warm swath of cloud. A breeze ruffled his hair and brought with it the smell of roast venison. He could practically taste the seasonings and feel the grease roll down his chin. It prompted a contented sigh and smile as he luxuriated in the flavour and heat. But it was a short-lived joy as the scene around him melted into darkness, his eyes snapped open and he found himself staring at a pillow.

“Good morning Sire!” Merlin grinned and threw open the curtains to blazing morning light.

Arthur winced and shaded his eyes, grimaced at the pain in his head. He’d only just gone to bed a few hours ago, having argued with Alden into the early hours. Not to be outdone Arthur had kept pace, a decision he was now sincerely regretting. “Must you be so energetic?”

A wide grin graced the servant’s face. “It’s not hard when you’ve been up for hours.

The king rolled his eyes and turned over with a groan. If only he could will himself to fall back into his dream but the bed linens were a poor substitute for the cloud.

“You have a meeting with the Council this morning and then a review of the Lists. Sir Bors said his candidate is standing this time so I marked his name in case you wanted to speak to him.” Merlin moved to the wardrobe to pull out a change of clothes. “And Ambassador Alden hinted that he thought a tourney would be a good way to celebrate the peace treaty.”

Arthur frowned and mumbled. “You mean he spoke to you yesterday?”

“No, this morning.”

“I’m surprised he’s able to stand upright. Man drinks like he’s trying to drown from the inside.” Arthur grumbled and yawned as he pulled a woolen blanket over his head to shut out the world.

Merlin set out the clothes and ignored the sullen lump in the bed. Instead he moved to the desk and made a face at the mess. A pile of old treaties, scrap vellum and broken quills littered the surface. The floor was spotted with ink. Several half-finished letters lay to one side, all addressed to the lords of neighbouring lands regarding the recent spate of attacks on the King’s Road by brigands.

As he cleaned the pile he’d occasionally glance back to the bed but there was no sign of movement. So he tried to be as noisy as possible, shuffled the mess, cleared his throat, muttered under his breath. But when he’d finished there was still no stirring of his Grace.

In fact Arthur was now lightly snoozing which would not serve. Merlin sighed and braced himself for the berating that was to come. With his hands clasped behind him he leaned over the bed and gingerly whispered.

“Sire. You need to dress before your meeting.”

The lump was still and Merlin closed his eyes and sighed in resignation. There was only one thing for it. He cringed as he reached out a hand and poked what he presumed was Arthur’s shoulder. The lump groaned in protest but didn’t move. A slightly sharper poke evoked the same reaction and forced Merlin to resort to pinching the king.

Arthur sat up with a start and threw the blankets off, his hair askew as he glared at Merlin.

“And what was that for!”

“You’ll miss your meeting with the Council if you stay in bed Sire.” He received a death glare in response but ignored it. “Do you require my assistance or should fetch some food from the kitchens?”

“I’m quite capable of dressing myself thank you.” Arthur hauled himself out of his cocoon, grabbed a fistful of clothing before he stumbled behind the screen. “And bring me some eggs.”

Merlin fought the urge to roll his eyes and slipped out with a bow. Fortunately the servant’s stair meant he didn’t have far to go and as Arthur had slept in, the considerable traffic around the morning meal had disappeared. The chill of the morning had burned away under the summer sun, with the promise of a warm afternoon if the lack of clouds was any indication.

He slipped into the kitchens and breathed deep. Fresh bread and the sharp punch of cloves filled his senses. The room was hot from the hearthfires and busy with the rush of servants, all in dirtied aprons. Awake since sun-up, most moved with a precision Merlin would struggle with. One man nearly bowled him over with a heavy pan of roasted birds on one beefy arm and the grease at the bottom sloshed with his gait as he shifted to avoid the manservant.

The head cook Rannulf glanced up at movement, only to narrow his eyes at the fruit pie thief. Normally he would have accused and thrashed any culprit stealing from his kitchen but being as it was the king’s personal dog he couldn’t do much beyond scowl and appear generally unpleasant which he did as the man walked towards him.

“The king would like some eggs as well as bread, cheese, wine and a few fruit pies.” Merlin ducked his head at the last for fear of giving himself away.

Rannulf huffed at the request but signaled one of his many peons to begin putting together a meal, although he knew that the fruit pies were **not** in fact for the king but the servant himself. He’d seen his quick fingers pluck fresh ones off a tray and scuttle them under his jacket. But he could do nothing and he didn’t dare think of what other mischief he got up to outside the kitchens. It didn’t bear thinking about.

A platter was quickly handed off and Merlin nodded his thanks before ducking out. He shifted the weight to his hip as he grabbed a warm fruit pie and practically inhaled the confection. The berry compote left a smear on his cheek as he licked his lips and savoured the sweet taste. Crumbs dotted his shirt and left a trail behind him as he hurried back up to the East Wing. He tried his level best to erase all evidence of the meal before he re-entered Arthur’s rooms.

The king was seated at his desk, hunched over what he’d been reading last night. Merlin pushed aside piles of documents to make room for the platter as steam curled up from fresh bread. He was quick to note the ink stains on Arthur’s hands as he ate, reaching for food without looking. They nearly matched the shadows under his eyes.

It hadn’t escaped anyone’s notice that the king was burning the candle at both ends. He spent his days in meetings or sorting out conflicts in court and his nights reading up on old laws and histories of Camelot. It left him with little time to sleep and even less to relax which made him more irascible than usual. Merlin usually took the brunt of his temper in the morning and everyone else dealt with the rest. No one spoke of it but the shared glances were frequent and growing more so by the day. It was clear this couldn’t continue. Not without consequences.     

Arthur gulped at the watered down mead, careful not to drip on the vellum as he soothed his parched throat. “How long until the meeting?”

“You have time enough Sire. There’s no need to rush. Or stuff your face.”

Arthur made a face as he purposely grabbed the last fruit pie and shoved it into his mouth, glaring. Crumbs ringed his mouth as he licked his lips and revelled in the knowledge that he wasn’t leaving any for Merlin.

A swift knock on the door was followed by Gawain who entered and gave a brief and irreverent bow. “Your Grace. I’m here to escort you.”

Arthur sighed and rubbed at his face. “Is this really necessary? We’re inside and I’m armed. I couldn’t possibly be safer.”

“I would remind your Grace that I’m here because assassins appear to be especially fond of you.”

He picked at a meat pie, having suddenly lost his appetite. “That might mean more if you didn’t spend half your time making eyes at the ladies of the court.”

The knight tried to hide his ever-present grin and shrugged. “I can’t help if they flock to me like sheep to a wolf.”

With a roll of his eyes Arthur rose from his seat and pulled on his gambeson. “I’m not sure what time I’ll be back.” He rubbed a hand over his face and through his hair. “Just clean up and air out the room before supper.”

Merlin watched him leave, shadowed by Gawain and stared at the door for a long moment before he sighed and turned back to the mess on the desk. He finished what was left on the platter as he’d yet to eat and polished off the mead before sorting through what Arthur had been reading. Then with a quiet burp he moved onto tidying the room. The linens would go down to the laundresses and he’d oil and polish one of the regular sets of armour.

By the time Arthur returned to his chambers hours later, the rooms and their contents were cleaner than he’d left them, all just in time for him to make a mess of things again. He flopped down on the bed, exhausted from the lack of sleep, his head beating out a steady rhythm of agony. With the day only half over he hoped to at least rest his eyes but his pause was soon interrupted by the royal tailor who burst into the room with a handful of dark fabrics the colour of blood and shadow. Roused by the noise he sat up, only to find Merlin ushering the man out.

“His Grace will see you tomorrow.”

The man spluttered. “But I need to know which colour and fabrics he would prefer for his new surcoat.”

“And he’ll be perfectly happy to choose one tomorrow.”

Merlin practically pushed him out the door where one Rannulf’s boys waited, soliciting what the king would like for dinner. For a moment Merlin paused, eager to shoo him away as well. Instead he smiled as an idea bloomed in his brain. With a word he sent the man off and tried to hide his grin as he walked back into the room.

“Sire I regret the interruption but we’ve had to add something to your schedule.”

Arthur sighed. “What is it?”

“Ambassador Alden mentioned that he’d made a decision about where to hold the hunt but wanted your approval first.”

The king rolled his eyes and limply waved his hand in the air above his head. “I approve.”

“He wanted you to see the grove for yourself.”

“Merlin I don’t need to see it,” Arthur growled. “If Alden thinks it’s suitable then I defer to his judgement. I have far more important things to consider at the moment. Such as how long I can sleep without missing supper.”

Hands clasped behind his back Merlin glanced up at the ceiling. “Unfortunately I already tried that tactic. But you know how stubborn he is and how strict he is about protocol. I’m afraid he wouldn’t listen to reason.”

Arthur sat up with fire in his eyes. “Are you telling me he wants me to ride all the way out there just to agree with him when I could easily do that from where I’m sitting?”

Merlin nodded, knowing it was best to stay silent.

The next minute had the king slowly roll out of bed and make for the door. He paused when he noticed Merlin wasn’t following along behind.

“Well come along. If I have to suffer the indignity of bowing to an Ambassador’s wishes so do you.”

“Of course Sire.” Merlin grinned and followed him out.

.oOo.

The ride was a pleasant one. As they left town and headed off the main road they were confronted with a small breeze that tangled their horse’s manes. It countered the warmth of the day as the sun poured down through a cloudless sky. The trail was well-traveled but bordered by a myriad of flowers in reds and yellows with broad leaves and curling stems. All were surrounded by bees that hovered and zipped to and fro, buzzing just loudly enough to hear.

“How much farther?”

“It should just be up ahead. Somewhere.”

Arthur frowned and twisted in his saddle to look back. “Merlin.” He gave the man one of his patented glares. “Have you actually **been** to this grove Alden mentioned?”

“Well. No. But he gave me very good directions.”

Arthur made a face at the admission and fought the ache in his head as he swayed back and forth in the saddle. There was only had so much time until supper and after that he needed to finish going over the plans for repairing the castle’s smithy and selecting participants for the tourney. He was so caught up in his thoughts that he didn’t realize they’d arrived until his horse bent down and started to chew on the young shoots of spring grass.

The king barely glanced at the grove, looked around for a moment and then pulled at his reins to leave when he saw Merlin dismounting. As with many things his servant did, he was immediately suspicious.

“What are you doing?”

“Just…stretching.” Merlin made to lift his arms up above his head, his face betraying the lie.

Arthur leaned over his horse’s head, impatient. “The truth now, if you please.”

Merlin ducked his head and scratched the back of his neck. “I convinced Gawain that you needed the afternoon off. I even brought supper.” He patted the saddlebags as if the promise of food would temper the deception.

“Is that why he didn’t follow us out?” Arthur furrowed his brow. “Even so, I don’t have time to ‘take the afternoon off’. If Alden really wants a tourney then I have less than two months to arrange it before the autumn storms.” He jerked his horse around, prepared to return home.

“Wait!” Merlin reached out in panic, grabbed Arthur’s reins and held him in place.

“Merlin.”

“Gaius said you hadn’t been sleeping. You almost fell asleep in Council this morning.”

“I’ve been busy.” He tried to jerk his reins out of Merlin’s hand.

“I know. So we decided you-“

 “Who’s we?” Arthur narrowed his eyes.

“Gaius, Leon, Gawain. Me.”

Arthur slowed closed his eyes and sighed in exhaustion. “So, instead of asking me about it you decided to trick me into wasting my time to come out here for absolutely nothing!”

Merlin stubbornly held on as Arthur tried to wrench his horse free. “It’s not nothing.” He kept his eyes lowered and murmured. “If you can’t stay awake for meetings how will you make it through the tourney?”

“And what would you have me do? Because I don’t see any other options.”

“You need to stop pushing yourself, stop trying to do everything yourself. At…at least eat something before you go back.” His hand dropped from the reins. He’d said his part and could only hope it had made a difference.

Arthur felt sleep pull at him, his eyes heavy as he fought a yawn. Merlin could honestly be the most frustrating person he had to deal with in a day. Even if he meant well. “If I do this will you stop hounding me?”

“Possibly.”

The king huffed in annoyance and slipped off his saddle He landed heavily and jarred the sting that made him want to stick his head in a hole until the pressure behind his eyes let up. With a wince he walked his horse over to the nearest tree to escape the sun.

Merlin flipped opened the saddlebags and hid a grin as he started to pull out bread, meats, pastries, two skins of mead and several cheeses wrapped in oiled cloth. As he started to set out the feast, Arthur sat down against a tree to rest his eyes.

The king laid his head back and let his shoulders droop. A small breeze brought the fresh scent of green past his face as he tried to avoid a patch of sun shining through the leaves. It had been an age since he’d last been outside. All of winter had been spent indoors labouring over paperwork for the peace treaty or sorting out local issues related to the weather or local borders.

Merlin noticed as he set out the last of the food that the king wasn’t eating, his face pale and pinched. “Are you feeling all right Sire?”

“I’m just enjoying the silence Merlin so do be quiet.”

“Would you…prefer to rest instead?”

 

Arthur murmured as he tried to find a more comfortable section of bark. “Just, give me a minute.” The leaves in the wind were like a river that lulled him back to the clouds from the morning. When he next opened his eyes the pain in his head was worse and the feast before him had diminished as evidenced by crumbs and the guilty look on Merlin’s face.

“Meat pie?”

Arthur looked at the sorry pastry with a sunken crust. “Is it cold?”

Merlin visibly deflated at the question.

“Nevermind then.” Arthur rubbed at his neck as the dull ache had spread. “If the idea was for me relax out here why didn’t you at least bring a pillow?” He grumped after falling asleep against a very uncomfortable tree. The coarse bark had dug into his back and left him in a foul mood.

“I’m sorry Sire. Here.” Merlin pulled off his jacket, balling it up.

“I’m not putting my head on your dirty clothes. When was the last time you washed that? Just look! There’s mud all over the side there.”

The eager on Merlin’s face fell as he tucked the jacket under his arm and noticed Arthur still appeared to be in pain. “Are you sure you’re all right?”

“Yes,” he said with jaw clenched.

Merlin frowned at the lie. “If you like there’s something Gaius does when he stares too long at his herbal books.” He looked down at the ground as he ripped at the grass.

“And how is that supposed to help me?”  Arthur stuttered through his teeth.

“Well it can’t hurt to try.”

“Fine,” Arthur hissed, the sharp ache flashing through his mind again and again and again.

“Just lay your head down on my lap.”

Arthur’s eyes shot open and he sat up and despite the pain. “Your lap!”

“It’s softer than the tree. Promise.” Merlin gave his thigh a soft pat.

For a long moment the only sound in the grove was the wind, punctuated by the rustle of leaves. The fact that the offer hadn’t been dismissed outright was surprising to both of them.

Arthur squeezed his eyes shut for a long moment before asking, “And if your lap gives me a crick in the neck?”

“Cold porridge and water for a week. I swear.”

Arthur mumbled something unintelligible but then to Merlin’s surprise he lay down and crossed his arms.

“It might help if you relaxed Sire.”

Arthur grumbled and closed his eyes to the light. He felt the light touch of fingertips on either side of his head as they pressed into his scalp and made little circles against his skin. He closed his eyes as the pressure negated the pain behind his eyes. The breeze in the branches and distant birdsong helped will him into a slumber where he drifted off.

Merlin sat still as he himself began to doze after being up half the night. While in shade, the slowly rising heat pulled him into dreams. Being a clear day in early summer without adverse weather on the horizon, two people poised to enjoy it most were sleeping. Crickets buzzed in the high grass and the occasional rustle could be heard in the clearing as furry creatures avoided the intruders.

When Merlin woke his leg was numb but he daren’t even shift his seat for fear of waking Arthur. It was uncomfortable but not overly so and if it meant the king could get in a few hours of rest before returning to the castle, he’d gladly let his leg be. At one point he could no longer feel his toes and so tried to shift so slowly that Arthur wouldn’t even notice.  But the king stirred at the slightest motion and mumbled under his breath about cheese.

Without thinking Merlin laid a hand atop the king’s head and stroked his hair to sooth him back to sleep. He froze in realization of what he’d done, eyes going wide in fear as he hoped Arthur wouldn’t wake. Just as he was about to gently life his hand up and pretend nothing had happened, Arthur murmured.

“Don’t stop.”

“Your pardon Sire?”

“You heard me.”

For a moment Merlin hesitated but resumed his ministrations and Arthur hummed in contentment as the two sat quietly in the shade.


End file.
